


All Hands On

by IrenkaFeralKitty



Series: All Hands On [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: X-Wing Series - Aaron Allston & Michael Stackpole
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multi, My take on omegaverse, Omega Verse, Pack Dynamics, Pack Feels, Porn with Feelings, omegas with vaginas, omegaverse delta, omegaverse gamma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-29 18:49:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17208953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrenkaFeralKitty/pseuds/IrenkaFeralKitty
Summary: The remains of the old Rogue Squadron pack reunite after the liberation of Thyferra.





	1. Tycho

Tycho hadn’t felt this kind of bone-deep weariness in a long while. The time following the liberation of Thyferra had been a welcome break, and he was happy to be returning to service for the New Republic, honestly. But he’d have been lying if he’d said he hadn’t had a brief moment where he’d considered taking up Bror Jace’s offer to stay as either a consultant or just a guest. 

At least the event the New Republic had thrown to welcome the Rogues back was over. They’d departed so quickly after the mass resignation earlier that year that the media felt like they’d been denied a proper chance to fully grill him on his trial, Isard, and Lusankya. Dodging the reporters and morbidly fascinated politicians had required most of his attention and energy.

Wes tugged him along impatiently as Tycho’s steps slowed some. The omega pilot had maintained a firm grip on his hand after latching onto him as they left the celebration.

“Oh no,” Wes had said as he snagged hold of Tycho. “Last time we let you wander off, you went and hooked up with New Republic Intelligence and that didn’t lead  _ anywhere _ good.”

Amused, Tycho had let himself be led to the lower levels of Coruscant after they'd paused so he could collect his go-bag. Hobbie and Wedge, meanwhile, promised to follow as soon as they’d handled some squadron matters.

It would be good when they were all together again. Their small pack had been split apart for far too long.

Wes came to an abrupt halt in front of the door to a small apartment. Startled, Tycho stumbled into him, his arm jerking slightly in order to keep his bag from sliding off his shoulder. As he backed away, he caught it again - a hint of a familiar scent underneath whatever cologne or aftershave Wes was wearing. He knew that scent, even if he was too tired to immediately remember what it was.

“So when Command brought me and Hobbie to Coruscant to head up the temporary Rogue Squadron, we decided we’d had enough of base living,” Wes explained as he punched in the door access code. “A good chunk of this building section caters to military personnel, so they provide furnished housing units, and we don’t have to sign in and out with security every time we want to hit a tapcaf.”

“That sounds efficient,” Tycho said as the door slid open.

Grinning, Wes tugged him inside. There was an extra sway in his hips and a gleam in his eye that Tycho found promising.

He’d barely had a chance to drop his bag onto the dull tan-colored couch in the living room when Wes pounced, lips eagerly seeking out his own. Strong arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him close.

Eagerly returning the embrace, Tycho pressed forward, his body already responding to Wes’s. And it was with this proximity that the teasing scent finally became clear.

“You  _ flew _ while in  _ heat? _ ” Tycho asked when they finally separated, panting slightly.

“Just for the ceremony,” Wes replied, his voice deep and purring like a wild feline predator. “Dab on enough suppressant and cologne and no one even notices this early on.”

“Meaning…”

Wes smiled wickedly. “I wanted you first,” he said. “You’ve been gone way too long.” Surging forward, Wes rolled back up onto his toes and kissed him again.

Tycho let his hands fall to Wes’s narrow hips, pulling their bodies flush as he reveled in the warmth radiating off the omega pilot. Wes’s mouth moved with heat-driven aggression as his blood continued to stir.

Force, it had been too long. He enjoyed sharing Wedge’s bed but it wasn’t quite the same as heat-bonding with their pack’s omega. And Wedge never got like this, panting and whimpering as he rutted against Tycho’s leg. The delicious scent of Wes’s heat grew stronger and stronger, steadily overpowering the masking scents Wes had overlaid it with. Wes wanted him, needed him. And wanted him first out of their pack.

That simple, earnest desire drove Tycho to pull Wes’s hips tighter against him so he could rub up against him. As Tycho rocked his cock against Wes’s crotch, the omega shuddered and buried his face in Tycho’s neck, whining at the sudden friction.

Myriad ideas sprang to mind as Tycho reveled in the intoxicating mix of scent and sensation. The only way this could be better was if Wedge and Hobbie had also been there to help drive Wes out of his mind with pleasure. They’d be along soon, though, and would eagerly fall into their old, familiar rhythm of heat-driven pack bonding.

Just as Tycho let his hands glide up Wes’s sides to start tugging his tunic free of his trousers, Wes jerked backwards with a groan. Then the world spun and tilted as Wes seized him by the hips and effortlessly tossed him over his shoulder.

“What, no time for romance?” Tycho asked, laughing once he’d gotten his bearings.

“Not after three kriffing years,” Wes replied somewhat breathlessly as he carted Tycho towards, presumably, the bedroom.

Rather than fight, Tycho relaxed into Wes’s firm grip around his waist. Despite his shorter stature, Wes easily outmassed and outmuscled all the other members of their pack, past and present. And when he decided he wanted something, he could rarely be diverted.

Tycho set to work stripping off his clothes as soon as Wes tossed him down onto the unmade bed. Stretching briefly, Tycho watched Wes do the same with admiring eyes, palming his cock in anticipation.

Wes’s body was as lean and cleanly muscled as ever, with a pleasant overlay of dark body hair in a few areas. There was the typical omega hint of extra padding around his hips, backside, and thighs. Tycho knew from experience how delightful it was to clutch at those spots while he plowed Wes’s willing body. By the end of a heat, Wes was always marked all over by his packmates, and he spent days afterward preening over each and every bruise and bite.

Kicking his clothes away, Wes scrambled onto the bed, straddling Tycho’s body as he leaned down for another kiss. When Tycho tried to sit up, Wes shoved him back down. It was a rare display of dominance from the other pilot and feeling Wes’s big hands pinning his shoulders down sent a shudder through Tycho’s body and made his toes curl in delight.

“We’ve been worrying about you for too kriffing long,” Wes breathed as he pulled back. His heat scent was intoxicatingly strong now and his eyes dark with lust, pupils blown and dilated. Without another word, Wes reached back and found Tycho’s hard cock, holding it steady as he shifted position, then sank down on it.

As Tycho’s length pierced him, Wes gasped, his head falling back and his body arching. His slick passage yielded to the invading member, bottoming out just as Wes dropped fully into Tycho’s lap. Then he just sat for a moment, moaning, whimpering, and panting.

Tycho’s hands spasmed slightly before he clutched at Wes’s hips, his fingernails biting into soft flesh. Wes was tight. So very tight, tight, tight. Wes’s interest in sex usually plummeted about a week before his heat and Tycho was reaping the results of that temporary celibacy. For a moment, all he could focus on was the tight passage squeezing his cock and the sounds Wes was making as he adjusted to the sensation of being penetrated.

Once he had his breathing under control, Wes opened his eyes and grinned down at Tycho. As Wes shifted his weight slightly, Tycho bent his legs until his knees were elevated just behind and to the sides of Wes’s back. He wanted as much leverage as he could get in this position. Above him, Wes raised himself up slightly then quickly dropped back down, letting out a breathy moan. Repeating the action, he lifted himself up a bit higher, then came down faster.

As Wes continued to move, Tycho lifted his pelvis to meet him, making sure to yank Wes down good and hard on his cock. The thrust shocked a startled cry from Wes and his slick passage spasmed beautifully.

Tycho gave Wes a moment to catch his breath and drank in the sight of him straddling his hips. A deep flush had spread over Wes’s face and he was starting to get the somewhat loopy expression he wore as he relaxed into the comfort and pleasure his packmates brought him during heats. The tension in his frame from their coupling was highlighting the definition in his musculature and the sheen of sweat starting to appear on his skin seemed to make him glow.

Best of all, the sex had Wes excited enough that his normally flaccid pseudo-penis was erect and fully engorged. A trait unique to omega males and alpha females, the enlarged clitoris was almost visually identical to the cock of any other beta or delta male, and also functionally identical save for the reproductive aspects. In lieu of that ability, his shaft was loaded with dramatically more nerve endings and offered yet another way for him to give and receive pleasure.

As Wes started rocking up and down once more, Tycho ran light fingers down the engorged shaft jutting towards him. Wes let out a loud keening sound at the feathery touch, the contrast with how he was hammering onto Tycho’s cock causing his legs to quiver and squeeze his packmate’s sides.

When Tycho took firm hold of him, Wes slammed down hard, practically grinding on the hard cock filling him. His passage spasmed and his body trembled as the first of many orgasms to come rippled through him. Wes let out an impassioned wail, his head falling back and baring his neck.

Tycho dug his heels into the bed, back arching as Wes clamped down on him. The pressure felt unbelievably good, and while he wanted to hold out so much, it had been too long since he’d bedded his omega packmate. His vision went white while his hips jerked helplessly through his own orgasm. Each thrust sent come shooting into Wes’s willing body.

Finally, Tycho went limp, gasping while the room spun around him. His legs went slack, sliding back down onto the bed. As everything started to return to normal, Wes sighed above him. Blinking, he stretched slightly, keeping Tycho’s softening cock inside him before relaxing once more. Then, grinning, goofy and bright, Wes carefully let his body fall forward until he could nuzzle his head into Tycho’s neck. His voice vibrated against Tycho’s throat, possibly words, but more likely just happy sounds. He managed to wiggle one arm under Tycho’s shoulder, looping it around while the other stretched out loosely beside them.

Tycho wrapped an arm around Wes’s broad, muscular shoulders and let his other trace along the omega’s other limb so he could entwine their fingers. He felt refreshed, centered, and at peace. The only thing missing now were their other packmates…

Wedge and Hobbie had promised they’d just be a few minutes behind them, Tycho suddenly remembered. A flash of suspicion shot through him. Raising his head, he looked towards the door.

Sure enough, Wedge and Hobbie were hovering around the entrance to the bedroom. Wedge was smiling slightly as he leaned against the wall next to the door, his hands tucked into his pockets. Hobbie, meanwhile, stood stock still in front of the door, arms crossed over his chest while he watched them with an intense gaze. While the two men had been courteously waiting for him and Wes to finish, the noticeable way their trousers tented hinted that their patience wouldn’t last much longer.

Tycho snorted in amusement and let his head fall back onto the bed. On top of him, Wes grumbled and rehid his face in Tycho’s neck.

Anticipation burned through him as he waited to see how Wedge and Hobbie would approach them. It wasn’t long before Tycho heard the shuffling of cloth and fasteners being undone. Then the bed dipped to one side then as Wedge crawled over.

Beta or not, Wedge was indisputably their alpha, their leader and guiding light. He didn’t fuss about not being able to knot or his small stature. He just took on the galaxy how it was and reacted accordingly. Even the proudest alphas that joined Rogue Squadron yielded to him. As such, when he stretched out next to Wes, the omega lifted his face out of hiding and leaned towards Wedge, seeking acknowledgement.

“After all these years, you’re still a brat,” Wedge said, amused. “Flying and attending the ceremony when your heat was starting was risky. You know how distracted you can get.” As he spoke, he threaded his fingers through Wes’s hair, pressing so close his narrow chest bumped into Tycho’s shoulder.

“I had it figured out,” Wes mumbled, angling his head so Wedge’s fingers could scratch his scalp.

“Mm hm. You still should have told one of us sooner.”

Tycho loosened his hold on Wes as the omega continued to list to the side. He closed his eyes happily as Wedge continued to murmur softly to Wes, the gently scolding, teasing sound achingly familiar. It had been literally years since he’d been privy to such soft affection. He was so glad to be here again with his pack, the people in the galaxy he was closest to and loved the most.

Then Hobbie joined them, resting on his stomach between their legs while the rest of him likely hung off the end of the bed.

Wes was aware enough to react, reluctantly pushing up from Tycho’s chest and away from Wedge for a moment as he adjusted his position. This time when he settled back down, he turned his face toward Wedge and opened his legs as much as his current position allowed.

Tycho spread his own legs so Hobbie would have room to better settle between them. Excitement was starting to run through him again as he felt Hobbie’s breath on his thigh.

The joined pack mates let out similar cries as Hobbie’s tongue ran down Wes’s backside, starting just below his anus and traveling to where Tycho’s slowly hardening cock was still buried inside him. Hobbie licked around the stuffed passage, cleaning off the come that had leaked out before sliding down to the uninflated knot at Tycho’s base and onto his balls hanging below. Finally, having always enjoyed this quirk of Tycho’s delta biology, Hobbie gently lifted his ball sack out of the way and thrust his tongue into the slick opening behind them that was so similar to Wes’s.

After a few moments of delicious torment, Hobbie reversed his journey, gliding back along Tycho’s balls to where he and Wes were joined. The sounds Hobbie was making, low, muffled groans and the wet squish of his tongue, added an extra layer of sensuality to his actions.

As his cock continued to harden, Tycho was suddenly grateful Wes’s domineering attitude had kept him from being pushed into a more alpha-style mindset which would have led his climax knotting the omega. As pleasurable as it was to tie off inside him, Wes was starting to move on Tycho’s cock again, something he couldn’t have done if they’d been locked together. His rhythm was slow for now, but his hips were starting to rock more earnestly as Hobbie tormented them both.

Trapped between their bodies, Wes’s shaft twitched in excitement, it’s slick surface gliding between flexing abdominal muscles. The added friction proved too much for Wes.

Hobbie jerked back, narrowly dodging Wes’s sudden flailing limbs as he pushed himself upright. Not pausing, Wes immediately began to ride, aggressively mounting Tycho’s refreshed hard cock over and over again. He let out short, breathy wails each time he dropped down. His passage began to clench as another orgasm approached.

Pushing himself to his knees, Hobbie pressed himself up against Wes’s backside, grinding his own cock into his tailbone. Reaching around, Hobbie started jerking Wes’s slick shaft while pressing hungry kisses along his jaw.

Wes’s orgasm hit him hard, his passage clenching almost painfully tight on Tycho. This time he didn’t cry out, his breath instead catching in his throat. Just as his face was starting to turn red, he gasped suddenly and his body went slack. Hobbie’s encircling arms were all that kept him upright.

While Hobbie cuddled and soothed the dazed omega, Wedge pushed himself up onto his arm and laid his hand on Tycho’s shoulder. The delta pilot bit his lip as he focused on not plowing up into Wes and chasing his own release. They weren’t long enough into the heat for such mindless rutting. Wes would be sore enough afterwards without Tycho pummeling his insides when he was still muddled and confused following his orgasm.

Wedge let his hand glide across Tycho’s chest, his fingers sliding through the sparse blond chest hairs. “Okay?” he asked softly.

Before Tycho could try to formulate a response, Wes rose up on his knees and awkwardly swung a leg up and over Tycho’s hip, letting the still hard cock slide free.

Tycho shuddered slightly as the room air hit him. Gritting his teeth, he put his own need aside and shifted over slightly when Wes started to burrow down between him and Wedge.

Wes’s dark eyes were still somewhat dazed looking as he made himself comfortable in the mussed sheets. When he had finished arranging himself, Wedge had shifted to lounge on his side while reclining against several pillows, one arm draped across Wes's torso. Wes, meanwhile, was leaning back, his head resting against Wedge’s chest.

At the foot of the bed, Hobbie lowered himself to his knees, a hand coming to rest on Tycho’s leg. His expression was intense as he looked at Wes, who merely cocked an eyebrow in return and cast a quick look at Hobbie’s prominent erection. What followed next was a rapid exchange of unspoken words and signals that ended with tension melting out of Hobbie’s shoulders and Wes grabbing Wedge’s hand and tugging him closer.

Tycho watched the silent conversation with equal parts amusement and concern. He had more trouble anticipating the shenanigans those two got up to more than the depredations of the worst Imperial warlord.

Finally, Hobbie turned away from Wes and aimed a severe look at Tycho. “No more disappearing,” he said firmly. As he spoke, he shifted to better settle between Tycho’s legs. Then, with one hand sliding up to bury his long fingers inside the waiting slick cunt, Hobbie bent over and wrapped his mouth around Tycho’s cock.

The sudden dual assault caused Tycho’s back to arch as his fingers scrambled at the bed clothes. Hobbie was justifiably proud of his oral skills and he’d swallowed Tycho down to the root. Two fingers, meanwhile, thrust in and out of Tycho’s passage, just enough to add a little burn from the stretch.

Hobbie kept up his relentless assault, head bobbing as he sucked and swallowed and his fingers working away. After a little while, he started to alternatively crook and scissor his fingers, hitting nearly every sensitive spot Tycho had.

Tycho writhed under Hobbie’s ministrations, hips jerking helplessly. He could vaguely hear moaning next to him and the wet sound of sex, but couldn’t turn and look, couldn’t do anything but submit to Hobbie’s sensual torment.

Just as he started to close in on orgasm once more, gasping and crying out helplessly, Hobbie pulled off his cock and dragged his hand free. Surging up the bed, he seized Tycho’s hip and rolled him onto his stomach. Once Tycho had his ass shoved into the air, Hobbie grabbed his hips once more and drove balls deep into his waiting cunt.

Tycho screamed. Actually, legitimately screamed as his passage was split open on Hobbie’s relentless cock. The invading member forced his body open, the bell end hammering the end of the passage in a way that made colors shift while the swelling alpha-style base demanded he give just a little bit more. He buried his face in his arms and yowled, sounding just like an omega in heat. Nothing else mattered besides the overwhelming pleasure the rough claiming was giving him. Tycho came while Hobbie growled, thrusting mercilessly into him.

Just as he was coming down from that brilliant peak, Hobbie let out his own cry and thrust in hard and deep. The knot at the base of Hobbie’s cock swelled until they were locked together. A second orgasm ripped through Tycho as the knot filled him to his limit and beyond. As his head swam and he shuddered, he could feel come filling him.

Eventually, the world stopped spinning and Tycho slowly began to reclaim control over his body. His bent legs were barely holding him up. Feeling shaky, Tycho focused on trying to unlock his muscles and collapse onto the bed.

Above him, intermittent tremors were running through Hobbie as his come continued to spill into Tycho. The knot tying them together was a rare treat. As a gamma, Hobbie had the physiology of an alpha but none of the common psychological traits such as the stereotypical self righteousness and intense mating drive. He could knot, as he was doing now, but even in the most intense heat-driven rut, it was rare.

Once Tycho had control over his legs, he pulled Hobbie down with him as he stretched out the bed. Once Hobbie had settled down on top of him, Tycho aligned their arms and took hold of his hands, squeezing them gently. Hobbie shuddered slightly before burying his face in Tycho’s neck. Slowly, the tremors slowed and Hobbie began to relax.

Tilting his head slightly so that his cheek rested against the top of Hobbie’s head, Tycho waited for Hobbie to settle down. He always needed some time following the rare occasions he knotted. Tycho also kept an ear tuned in to the sounds of Wedge and Wes’s enthusiastic coupling beside them - the wet sound of Wedge’s cock driving into Wes, the slap of flesh against flesh, and the rhythmic moaning were an oddly comforting sound.

The knot had finally deflated and Hobbie’s cock freed from Tycho’s body when Wes and Wedge finished. Now on his hands and knees with Wedge driving into him from behind, Wes grinned at Tycho and Hobbie, who was starting to peek out from the delta pilot’s neck.

Once Wedge straightened out of his post-coital slouch, he pulled free, which allowed Wes to gingerly shift into a sitting position next to Tycho. He leaned against the still-entwined forms of the two blond pilots and let his arm come to rest on Hobbie’s back in a half-embrace. Wedge slipped off the bed and moved to the other side where there was just enough room for his skinny frame.

It was usually Wes that they surrounded during a heat, not himself or Hobbie, Tycho reflected ruefully, and he wasn’t entirely certain who they wanted to reassure more.

Wedge’s protective position seemed to be the last piece Hobbie needed to fully relax. Nudging Wes to get him to move, he slipped off Tycho and flopped down at his side.

Wes immediately scrambled over Hobbie, shoving his way between the two men so he could press up against Tycho again. With his lone free hand, Wes seized Tycho’s chin, forcing him to look at him. “You can’t disappear again. Not like that. We’ve already lost too many.” Behind him, Hobbie nodded solemnly.

That explained it, then, Tycho realized. Wes’s aggressiveness and Hobbie’s uncharacteristically forceful fucking. He’d known they’d been hurting during their separation. But he hadn’t  _ known _ . Some of the lingering ache hidden deep in his chest suddenly loosened in the face of his packmates’ ferocious care and his eyes stung slightly as the sheer power of their affection touched him.

Reaching up, Tycho wrapped his hand around Wes’s and squeezed it tight as he rolled onto his side. The omega immediately flowed into his chest with Hobbie curling up closer behind him. “I won’t let it happen again,” Tycho promised. “I won’t let anything break us apart like that ever again.”

Wedge reached around Tycho and placed his hand on top of theirs. “There won’t be any more disappearances.”

Letting out a sign of relief, Wes let his eyes drift shut.

“Nap time?” Tycho asked teasingly.

“Mm.”

Hobbie wrapped himself protectively around Wes and shut his own eyes after giving Tycho a stern look.

For a long while, Tycho just watched them sleep, resisting his own need to rest just for a little while. They’d be awake and taking turns with Wes soon enough. Heats consisted of frantic sex and very little sleep, and with so few remaining members, they’d need to be somewhat organized to keep Wes from becoming grumpy and unsatisfied.

They did need to bring in some new people, Tycho reflected. Perhaps some of the new Rogues. They needed to safeguard each other in the face of future potential losses.

That would be later, though. For now, it was just them. And that was how it should be.


	2. Wedge

There’s an itch between Wedge’s shoulder blades. It had started so gradually, he didn’t even notice at first. But as he’d watched Wes and Tycho depart the Welcome Back party for the Rogues, he’d felt it and knew, deep in his gut, that it had been there for a while.

When he stepped into Wes and Hobbie’s apartment, it only took a few seconds for the source of the itch to become clear.

Tycho’s go bag was on the floor next to the couch, standing on its side as though it had toppled off. The enticing, almost sweet scent permeated the apartment was something he hasn’t smelled in years.

“No wonder Wes put cologne on earlier,” Hobbie muttered as he activated the door lock.

Wedge glanced over at him, noting the familiar frown on his pack mate’s face. “He didn’t mention this to you, I take it?”

“Didn’t breath a word.”

Typical. And to think Wes liked to dismiss Correllians as headstrong and stubborn, Wedge reflected with amusement.

Wes let out a particularly loud cry from the bedroom, Tycho moaning along with him. It was enough to send a shiver down Wedge’s spine and into his groin. As his cock began to harden and swell, his pants seemed to grow tighter. It had been far too long since he’d heard Wes make these sounds and he couldn’t think of anything better than taking some time to seek out each and every little change that had occured in the omega’s strong body. Just as he started to stride towards the bedroom, Hobbie grabbed his shoulder.

When Wedge spun around and pinned the gamma pilot with a look, Hobbie flushed slightly and glanced at the floor in instinctive submission. “Is Tycho okay?” he asked after a moment. “With this, I mean.” His words were accompanied with a vague sweeping hand gesture. A hint of worry lay beneath the flush starting to spread over his face.

“Is this about Lusankya?” Wedge asked after dragging his mind out of the pornographic depths it had started sinking to.

Nodding, Hobbie said, “It’s been a long time for us, Wedge. Years since we’ve seen him. I just want to make sure he’s still… still ours.”

Of course. Wedge bit back a sigh. He’d somehow forgotten that neither Hobbie nor Wes had gotten see to Tycho since his miraculous return from Isard’s clutches. “He is. There’s no question about it.”.

“Good. I’m glad Isard didn’t, well, break that.”

“Even she couldn’t have managed it. Tycho is ours and he always will be.”

Wes squealed suddenly, hitting a pitch that signalled he was getting close to orgasm. Wedge’s head whipped around to stare at the bedroom for a moment before he cast a quick look at Hobbie. “Tycho’s going to need backup soon. Managing any omega alone while they’re in heat is maddening, let alone one like Wes. I don’t know how you’ve managed it,” he teased.

“Meticulous scheduling and planning,” Hobbie answered, eyes locked onto the bedroom. “And lots of mechanical assistance.”

“Mm.” Wedge watched Hobbie for a moment. He was rocking back and forth on his feet, desperate to race into the bedroom but unwilling to disobey him and move without permission. Hobbie’s posture was a small but significant confirmation that their old pack dynamic hadn’t changed. This heat would be a wonderful way to re-commit themselves to each other. Wedge grinned. “Come on. Let’s go.”

When they reached the bedroom, Wedge felt his cock solidify into solid durasteel. Tycho was on his back with a firm grip on Wes’s hips, his fingers biting into soft flesh as he dragged the enthusiastic omega down to meet each hard thrust.

Wes was showing off already. Unless he’d changed wildly over the last several years, Wes usually rode his pack mates while leaning forward, hands on his mate’s shoulders while he made sure the cock buried between his legs rubbed against every sweet spot. Right now he was leaning back, erect shaft on proud display as he gave Tycho a prime view of the cock rocketing in and out of Wes’s body.

It was also pretty clear that Wes’s preening was having its desired effect. Tycho’s gaze was hungry as he devoured the omega with his eyes. It wasn’t long before Tycho reached over to start fondling Wes’s shaft, causing him to slam down hard on Tycho’s cock. Moments later, Wes’s head fell back as he wailed, exposing a tempting strip of smooth flesh. Tycho’s orgasm followed swiftly, unfolding like a work of art. His face enraptured, he thrust wildly into Wes, who shuddered as each pistoning motion prolonged his own pleasure.

As the two men came down from their respective peaks, the hard lines in their bodies disappeared. Wes collapsed forward, eager to snuggle, while Tycho happily received him.

Wedge felt his cock throbbing demandingly after the erotic display, but he didn’t want to disturb the moment of peace. Force knows they didn’t get a lot of them and just seeing Tycho and Wes wrapped up in each other’s arms was one of the best things he’d seen in years.

Sneaking a glance af Hobbie, Wedge grinned again when he traced the point the other man had locked his course onto. Wes’s legs were still straddling Tycho’s hips and they had a perfect view of the cock still buried in Wes’s body. Clear glistening come was leaking out around Tycho’s cock and both he and Wes were covered in slick.

Tycho stirred suddenly, raising his head and peering suspiciously towards them. As he met Wedge’s eyes, his lips quirked in amusement before he let his head fall back onto the bed.

Accepting the silent invitation, Wedge started stripping off his clothes, then jostled Hobbie’s arm when he didn’t immediately follow suit. He wanted them all together now, safe and content as they shared each other’s company for the first time in years.

Leaving the gamma to his own devices, Wedge climbed onto the bed next to Wes, who lifted his head and smiled in greeting. His eyes fluttered slightly as though sleepy before he rolled slightly to the side, angling his head and shoulders towards Wedge, who happily ran his hand through Wes’s dark hair.

“After all these years, you’re still a brat,” Wedge said, amused. “Flying and attending the ceremony when your heat was starting was risky. You know how distracted you can get.” Distracted was putting it mildly. Once, years ago, Wes had vanished for hours after being sent to retrieve some new flight suits. Luke had found him flirting with several posturing supply officers, completely unaware of how long he’d been gone or the training sim he’d missed. He’s been teased relentlessly for that once Luke had bundled him off to Rogue Squadron’s assigned quarters.

“I had it figured out,” Wes mumbled, angling his head so Wedge’s fingers could scratch his scalp.

Shaking his head, Wedge relaxed as he leaned against Tycho’s shoulder. “Mm hm. You still should have told one of us sooner,” he insisted. Someday they’d get Wes to taking his heats more seriously. Well. Possibly. Maybe. He did most of the necessary planning during the run up to his heat. It was when the hormonal cocktail hit that he got scatterbrained. “For all you knew, Tycho and I could have been asked to come debrief at Starfighter HQ after the party. Or we may have taken up another offer for housing tonight. Then it would have been just you and Hobbie again. And that isn’t nearly as fun, is it?”

Hobbie chose that moment to join them, slipping onto the bed between Wes and Tycho’s legs. His knee brushed theirs as he first settled down, and their pack mates quickly reacted. Wes reluctantly pulled away from Wedge and pushed himself upright for a moment, shifting his weight and rearranging his legs so he could spread them better, then dropped back down with his face turned to Wedge. The hazy languor had been replaced by anticipation. And as soon as Wes’s legs were out of the way, Tycho spread his own so Hobbie could better fit between them.

Hobbie immediately lowered himself down, getting his face as close as possible. Wedge couldn’t see exactly what Hobbie was doing, but he’d been on the receiving end of Hobbie’s ministrations enough to be familiar with his preferences. And their packmates’ joined bodies were a tempting treat for their lanky gamma.

Wedge knew the exact moment Hobbie began to tease them. The cries Wes and Tycho let out were almost simultaneous and nearly identical. Hobbie’s pale blond hair bobbed in and out of view as he licked around their bodies, no doubt chasing down each drop of glistening come and slick while he stimulated every possible nerve. Wes and Tycho’s faces were contorted in pleasure as Hobbie worked away and soon Tycho’s hips began to rock in a slow rhythm.

The combination of Tycho’s renewing desire and Hobbie’s teasing mouth were too much for Wes. The omega’s muscles flexed as he jerked upright and immediately slammed his hips down on Tycho’s, mounting the cock buried inside him with aggressive abandon. Hobbie, his face smeared with slick and come, barely managed to dodge Wes’s abrupt motion. Once the omega had established a new rhythm, Hobbie crawled up onto his knees, pressing his engorged cock against Wes’s backside. He rocked along with Wes’s repeated motions, rutting against him and kissing his jaw while a long, skinny arm reached around to start jerking Wes’s slick shaft.

The sight and sound of Wes’s sudden orgasm moments later sent a stab of agony through Wedge as his own desire remained unquenched. But he wouldn’t have had it any other way. As Wes’s face began to flush, Wedge felt his breath catch in his throat, a wave of possessiveness running through him. He would have Wes next. And soon. Normally, he’d have been the first to breach Wes’s lust driven body and paint his insides with come. It would have been his seed coating Hobbie’s face. This was different, though. This was what his pack needed and Wedge would do whatever it took to ensure they were happy.  

As Wes collapsed back into Hobbie’s waiting arms, Wedge moved closer to Tycho, laying a hand on the delta’s shoulder. Wes’s orgasm had hit too soon for Tycho to follow and the pilot was fighting not to simply use Wes to reach his own peak. “Okay?” Wedge asked as he let his hand glide across Tycho's chest.

Tycho blinked dazed eyes, a small tremor running through his body. Wedge immediately pressed his hand a bit harder against the blond’s chest, alert for any sign of true distress.

Above them, Wes sighed and suddenly climbed off Tycho’s body. He flopped down on the bed, forcing Wedge to back away and give him room. On Wes’s other side, Tycho likewise slid sideways, opening up just enough room for the omega to burrow happily between them.

Wedge took a moment to return his attention to Wes, propping himself up on the mound of pillows before drawing Wes to him. Once the omega was settled, Wedge turned his attention back to Tycho, wanting to see to the delta pilot’s pleasure as soon as he could.

A flicker of amused wariness crossed Tycho’s face as Wes and Hobbie shared a rapid silent conversation. The unspoken words concluded with tension melting away from Hobbie’s body and Wes grabbing Wedge’s hand, tugging him closer and grinding his ass against his cock.

Hobbie gave Tycho a severe look. “No more disappearing,” he ordered. Then, swooping down, he swallowed the delta’s cock in one smooth act.

Wedge groaned as Tycho’s back arched and he shoved his cock deeper down Hobbie’s throat. A soft, wet, squelching sound filled the air as Hobbie started pistoning his fingers in and out of Tycho’s passage. Seeing Tycho come undone always did things to him.

Wes rolled onto his stomach and pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, wiggling his ass enticingly as he watched Tycho and Hobbie with hungry eyes.

Seeing that Tycho was being well cared for, Wedge returned his attention to Wes. He ran his fingers down the ridge’s of Wes’s spine, his eyes tracing the lines of the omega’s muscular back. When he reached Wes’s ass, he used both hands to squeeze and massage his round buttocks, enjoying the way Wes’s skin turned pale under his fingers and the sight of Wes’s untouched asshole when he spread the cheeks apart. Then, he let his hands fall lower down to expose the slick passage below.

Hobbie’s tender ministrations hadn’t completely cleaned away all trace of Tycho’s release or the sweet heat slick Wes’s body was producing. The slick passage glistened welcomingly and the heat scent just kept growing stronger and stronger.

Wedge only took a few moments to enjoy the sight of Wes’s open body. Then, lining himself up, he pushed inside.

Wes’s passage was beautifully wet and just like Wedge remembered. His wasn’t virginally tight, as he would have been for Tycho, but he also wasn’t gaping and lose. That would come in a few days and then they’d have the delightful distraction of seeing just how much Wes could take at once. No, right now Wes was perfect. Tight enough for delicious friction, but not enough to drive Wedge to immediately come.

He thrust, hard and deep, too wound up to start slow like he usually preferred. Squeezing Wes’s padded hips, Wedge ground into him for a moment, enjoying the way the pressure made Wes squeal. Then, withdrawing his cock until just the tip was inside, Wedge thrust in again. Then again. He and Wes fit so perfectly together in this position. Hobbie and Tycho were both too tall to be able to fuck Wes this way. This was just for them.

Not that Wedge was ignoring Tycho and Hobbie. Once he was fucking Wes in a steady rhythm, Wedge let his attention turn back to their packmates. Tycho’s hips were jerking helplessly while Hobbie teased him, his body clearly signalling how close he was to orgasm. Each mindless outcry Tycho let out made Wes clench tight around Wedge.

Before Tycho could come, Hobbie jerked back, letting Tycho’s cock slip out of his swollen mouth as he withdrew his fingers. Seizing his hips, Hobbie flipped Tycho onto his stomach. Fingers scrambling at the bedsheets, Tycho whimpered as Hobbie dragged his ass into the air. With a desperate sound, Hobbie plunged into Tycho’s body.

And Tycho screamed. Back arching, Tycho held himself open for Hobbie’s relentless cock, yowling as though he were the one in heat all the way to a swift orgasm. Hobbie continued his desperate fucking, hips jerking frantically until he too was howling out his release as he ground his cock as deep inside Tycho as he could.

When Hobbie instinctively tried to pull out and found himself tied off inside Tycho, Wedge felt his hips stutter as he temporarily lost his rhythm. Hobbie had knotted. Hobbie had knotted _Tycho_ when it was _Wes_ who was in heat-

“Yesss,” Wes hissed, slamming back onto Wedge’s cock. His passage shuddered as an orgasm tore through him.

Wedge moaned helplessly as Wes’s body squeezed around him. His thrusts continued their intermittent pace until the spasms finally eased and Wes sighed happily. Once the tight walls wrapped around Wedge’s cock eased off, he shifted his weight slightly, adjusted his grip on Wes’s hips, and started to fuck in earnest. He was _so close_.

The pace Wedge set was fast but not unsustainable. He never fully withdrew from Wes’s body and the omega eagerly rocked back against him each time Wedge drove himself inside. Squeezing his eyes shut, Wedge’s did his best to focus on Wes’s tight, slick passage and the sound of their moans filling the room.

Hobbie had knotted. Hobbie had knotted Tycho and the sheer desperation and desire that must have taken was driving Wedge insane. It was rare but they’d all experienced it before at one point or another. The hard, deep thrusts. The enlarged base of Hobbie’s cock opening them up just that much more. Then the sudden pressure as the base swelled and Hobbie buried himself deep inside his packmate’s body, shuddering as he finally came and seed began to pulse out of his cock to fill the limited space. When Wedge took a turn riding Hobbie’s cock, it was usually Wes who cuddled up to the gamma pilot as he trembled through his release and Tycho who grounded Wedge. Wedge’s body wasn’t built to take it like Tycho’s and Wes’s and he loved the merciless pressure andhow Hobbie’s knot was perfectly placed to swell right up against his prostate.

In seemingly no time at all, Wes’s heat driven body started to spasm once more in yet another orgasm. When his passage clenched tight around Wedge’s cock, he let out his own cry as he finally tipped over the edge. Energy surged up his spine and each orgasm-driven thrust into Wes set off fireworks behind Wedge’s eyes.

Finally, Wedge slumped as his orgasm eased off, catching himself on Wes’s sweat slick back. He panted for several moments as his heart rate began to slow. When he finally straightened, Hobbie had collapsed on top of Tycho and was shyly peeking over at them while minute tremors ran through his lanky frame.

Pulling free of Wes, Wedge flopped back onto the bed, needing a moment to get his bearings. Wes, meanwhile, heedless of the come leaking out of him, slid into a sitting position next to Tycho and Hobbie. Leaning against them, Wes rested his arm on Hobbie’s back and threaded his fingers through his hair.

Hobbie was always so rattled after knotting. Feeling a sudden need to protect their mates’ vulnerable flank, Wedge rolled off the bed and circled around to the far side. There was just enough room for him on the other side of the bed, and for the moment, he knew Wes was just as focused in their packmates as he was. Wedge quickly made himself comfortable on the bed, pressing so close as he sat down that his knees dug into Tycho’s side.

When Wedge rubbed a comforting hand across Hobbie’s shoulder blades, the blond shuddered slightly, hiding his face in Tycho’s neck for a moment before the last bit of tension in his body drained away with a sigh.

After a little while, Hobbie nudged Wes’s side with his elbow, asking him to move, then he clambered off Tycho and flopped onto his side once the omega shifted back.

Opportunist that he was, Wes promptly clambered over Hobbie so he could squeeze between him and Tycho, the bed rocking as he moved. With a free hand, Wes seized Tycho’s chin, forcing him to look at him. “You can’t disappear again. Not like that. We’ve already lost too many.” Behind him, Hobbie nodded solemnly.

Immediately, Wedge wished he could see Tycho’s face. There was clear hurt in Wes’s voice and he hated to think there was even a chance that hurt could be reflected in Tycho’s expression. He hadn’t _meant_ to be captured and imprisoned. But he had and his loss had been a horrible gaping wound for far too long.

Worse, Wes and Hobbie had been kept away from their packmates once Tycho had returned. They’d barely been able to so much as exchange messages, let alone have a chance to see for themselves that he was okay.

Tycho took Wes’s hand in his own as he shifted onto his side. Wes pressed himself against Tycho, clutching at him while Hobbie also moved closer.

“I won’t let it happen again,” Tycho promised. “I won’t let anything break us apart like that ever again.”

Wedge reached around Tycho and placed his hand on top of theirs. “There won’t be any more disappearances,” he promised. He’d see to personally. He’d never let him pack hurt like this ever again.

“Nap time?” Tycho asked teasingly when Wes sighed in relief.

“Mm.”

For a long while, Tycho lay still as Wes and Hobbie’s breathing slowed and evened out. After a while, Wedge smiled lightly and laid down, keeping his arm around Tycho. “I told you they’d missed you,” he murmured, recalling a quiet conversation back on Thyferra as they prepared to leave.

“I hadn’t realized how much,” Tycho admitted. “I mean I knew, but I didn’t- didn’t know. If that makes sense.”

“You and I had over a year to reconnect, even throughout the worst of the New Republic’s suspicions. Meanwhile, they were stuck on the Sluis Van Outer Base waiting for whatever word I could send them.” Wedge closed his eyes and let his head rest against Tycho’s back. “It is what it is. What matters is that we’re together again.”

“But for how long? I doubt any of us are interested in retiring. We’re all at the mercy of the New Republic’s needs.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Wedge promised, suppressing a flicker of guilt. His idea for a new squadron would necessarily split them up again, but at least it would be along different lines and without a complete ban on all communications. “Whatever happens, none of us will ever be left alone again. That’s all that matters.”

Tycho sighed at the promise. He shifted slightly, making minute adjustments to his position and setting off a chain reaction that caused first Wes then Hobbie to move as well. “Okay,” Tycho said as the bed stopped moving. His voice started to slur with sleep. “Love you. All of you.”

“We love you too.”


	3. Hobbie

It felt strange preceding Wedge as they made their way through Coruscant, but Wedge certainly didn’t know the way to the apartment. It was hard to remember to keep his stride measured, to not eat up the distance with his long legs and get home to Wes and Tycho as fast as he could without running, but Wedge always got a bit peeved whenever Hobbie forgot and he had to add a small skip to his step in order to keep pace. 

He hated that their packmates had left ahead of them. After missing Tycho for so long, it hurt to see him walking away again. At least Wes had been with him, Hobbie thought. Wes had left with a tight grip on the Alderaanian pilot and would personally see to it that Tycho was delivered safe and secure to the small apartment that had been home for the past several months.

Hobbie keyed open the apartment with quick hands, then stood to one side while Wedge strode in ahead of him. When he followed, though, he found his commander standing frozen just inside the door. Then he smelled it.

Heat scent.

The sharp bite of heat scent - lust, slick, and hormones - overrode Wes’s naturally earthy, plasma and sulfur touched scent. Hobbie was intimately familiar with both aspects of Wes’s scent and he desperately wanted to go and bury himself in it.

“No wonder Wes put cologne on earlier,” Hobbie muttered as he automatically activated the door lock. He’d wondered at the extra primping Wes had done earlier that day. Things had been so hectic as they prepared for the Rogues return, though, that he hadn’t had time to pursue the matter.

Wedge glanced over at him, his gaze intense. “He didn’t mention this to you, I take it?”

“Didn’t breath a word.” Wes had been squirrely all week. Hobbie had known he was plotting something, just not what.

Before Hobbie could ruminate further, a pair of particularly passionate cries echoed out of the bedroom. The sound jolted Wedge into motion, but Hobbie seized his shoulder before he could join their packmates.

The fury in Wedge’s eyes sent a shudder of terror down Hobbie’s spine. Feeling a flush of shame cross his face, Hobbie stared at the floor in silent apology.  “Is Tycho okay?” he asked after a moment, still staring at the dull gray carpet. “With this, I mean.” Hobbie’s vague gesture was meant to encompass more than just their surroundings. He’d known Tycho since their days at the Academy but he’d never felt more distant from him.

“Is this about Lusankya?” Wedge asked after giving himself a shake.

Nodding, Hobbie said, “It’s been a long time for us, Wedge. Years since we’ve seen him. I just want to make sure he’s still… still ours.”

“He is. There’s no question about it,” Wedge replied without hesitation.

“Good. I’m glad Isard didn’t, well, break that.”

“Even she couldn’t have managed it. Tycho is ours and he always will be.”

Wes squealed suddenly, hitting a pitch that signalled he was getting close to orgasm. Wedge’s head whipped around to stare at the bedroom for a moment before he cast a quick look at Hobbie. “Tycho’s going to need backup soon. Managing any omega alone while they’re in heat is maddening, let alone Wes. I don’t know how you’ve managed it,” he teased.

“Meticulous scheduling and planning,” Hobbie answered, locking his own eyes onto the bedroom. “And lots of mechanical assistance.” There were a few special items he wanted to break out. Energy and lust shot through him. Wes’s scent begged him to come close. Hobbie wanted to see exactly what Tycho was doing to get such desperate sounds out of the omega. But he couldn’t go in until Wedge said he could. He rocked back and forth, fighting the urge to race into the bedroom.

The Correllian finally took pity on him, or, possibly, couldn’t bear to stay away any longer himself. “Come on. Let’s go.”

The pair coupling on the bed were beautiful. Hobbie raked his eyes over the two men, eagerly drinking in as much of Tycho as he could. Not that he was ignoring Wes, of course. Wes was at his most attractive like this, every inhibition lifted and every aspect of his personality charged to its most expressive form. It was just that it had been years since he’d seen Tycho in private, whereas he’d literally licked every inch of Wes’s flesh multiple times over since they’d been assigned to teaching duty.

Once his eyes had drunk in the sight of Tycho from head to toe, Hobbie fixed his gaze on Tycho’s primary point of contact with Wes. For a moment, he imaged how tight Wes’s passage would be for Tycho, having gone without any significant form of penetration for over a week. Tycho’s cock glistened as Wes raised himself up, the slick from Wes’s body covering the shaft and even rolling down into the wiry blond hairs at the base of Tycho’s crotch and onto his balls.

The fast, steady pace suddenly changed as Wes wailed, slamming his body down onto Tycho’s cock as orgasm tore through him. Tycho followed moments later, thrusting hard as he pumped hot come into Wes’s body.

Hobbie’s entire body burned. He could practically taste the salty come filling Wes up, to feel how well the release filled the omega’s body. He could practically feel Tycho’s shaft gliding in and out of Wes’s passage, driving come out of Wes’s body even as it shot more into him.

When Wes collapsed forward onto Tycho, Hobbie’s view of their joined bodies was further enhanced. Most of Tycho’s shaft was still buried deep inside Wes, but come was leaking out around that softening cock and mixing with the slick from Wes’s body. They were a mess and Hobbie desperately wanted to clean them up.

A sudden elbow jabbing his arm jolted Hobbie into motion. Stripping out of his clothes, Hobbie barely noticed Wedge climbing onto the bed to scold Wes. Instead, he honed in on his target, leaning down onto the bed between Tycho and Wes’s legs, which quickly spread to accommodate him.

As Hobbie crawled closer on his packmates’ joined bodies, Hobbie relaxed into their familiar scents. Scent didn’t lie and Hobbie never misread it the way he did faces and tone sometimes. And taste could be even better.

Hobbie ran his tongue down Wes’s taint to his passage, then licked at the opening stretched around Tycho’s cock. After just a few tastes, the shaft started to harden again, exposing more skin, come, and slick for Hobbie to enjoy.

Taking his time, Hobbie continue his cleansing work, chasing after every sharp flavor as he reacquainted himself with Tycho’s delta biology - the uninflated knot, the soft ball sack and hard balls, and the passage below wet with its own slick. Hobbie jabbed his tongue into Tycho’s body as far as he could. He was tight. Wedge must not have had time to mount him recently.

A groan slipped out of Hobbie’s mouth, muffled by Wes and Tycho’s bodies. Reversing his journey, he returned to Tycho’s cock and the sensitive, stretched rim of Wes’s passage. Soon, Wes and Tycho were both rocking their hips, their breaths coming faster and shallower. Hobbie focused even more intently on his work, as each motion pushed more seed out of Wes’s body for him to enjoy. In addition to the taste and smell of their recently coupling, there was something else, though...

Wes’s foot jerked suddenly, barely providing Hobbie with enough warning as Wes suddenly surged upright and impaled himself hard on Tycho’s cock. His ride this time was hard and fast, his overstimulated body driving him onward.

Unconcerned with how messy his face was, Hobbie pressed himself against Wes’s backside. Grinding his cock against Wes’s backside, Hobbie pressed hungry kisses along his jaw as he reached around his narrow waist so he could start jerking Wes’s slick shaft.

This time when the omega orgasmed, it was without a sound. His body arched, pressing back against Hobbie while his mouth hung open, desperate for air. Just as his face was starting to turn red, he gasped and sagged as he was suddenly able to breath again. Hobbie held him tight, steadying him as Wes recovered from an intense orgasm.

Sighing, Wes nudged Hobbie’s chin with his head, signalling him to let go. Once free, he flopped down onto the bed, demanding cuddles from their leader.

Hobbie watched him intently, needing to be certain Wes truly was safe and content. When the omega settled against Wedge, he winked slightly, silently reassuring Hobbie he was alright. Hesitantly, Hobbie let his eyes flicker downwards for a moment towards Tycho. Aware that the other pilot hadn’t come, Wes smirked slightly, twitching an eyebrow to signal his approval.

It was a relief to have permission. Wes was the one in heat, after all, not Tycho. But heat or no, they both still felt the stress and pain of Tycho’s lost time.

Shifting his gaze, Hobbie gave Tycho a severe look. “No more disappearing,” he ordered. Not giving the delta any time to respond, he swooped down and swallowed the delta’s cock in one smooth act.

Tycho thrust instinctively into Hobbie’s mouth, surprised and pleased all at once. As Tycho’s cock teased his gag reflex, Hobbie drove two fingers deep into the unused passage below. He thrust his fingers in and out of the slick opening, enjoying the wet squelching sound it made as he swallowed.

Each time he bobbed his head downward, Hobbie felt Tycho’s cock cutting off his air. Each time, he did his best to swallow, letting his throat squeeze around the hard cock. He timed each deep throat to match his thrusting hand, soon starting to scissor and twist his fingers inside the tight passage.

Even as Tycho writhed beneath him, drawing dangerously nearer to orgasm, Hobbie felt anxiety starting to creep up on him again. Tycho’s scent was off. It was faint, but definitely different. The stench of sterile hallways, blood, pain, and fear lay beneath Tycho’s tidy floral scent. Hobbie had to fix it.

Jerking back, Hobbie seized Tycho's hip, flipping him onto his stomach. In a movement that almost seemed like slow motion, Hobbie watched as Tycho raised his ass and arched his back, begging to be fucked. As the delta whimpered, Hobbie let out a desperate sound and buried himself in the man’s willing body.

Tycho screamed. His passage was even better than Hobbie remembered. Determined to drive out the last lingering remnants of Lusankya from his scent and make him all theirs once more, Hobbie fucked him hard and fast. And all the while, Tycho yowled like an omega in heat.

They came at almost the exact same time. Tycho’s passage clenched tight and Hobbie could smell fresh come as the other man’s cock released a load onto the bed. Hobbie growled as he hit his own peak, driving himself as hard and deep as he could, knowing that when his seed painted Tycho’s passage, the awful wrongness would be driven out.

Tycho’s body clenched impossibly tight around Hobbie again, and he groaned as his orgasm swept through him. Hobbie clutched desperately to Tycho’s hips until the passage relaxed once more, but the intense, overwhelming wave of pleasure and possessiveness didn’t vanish as Hobbie’s orgasm eased off. Instead, it slowed to a simmer and settled into his gut.

Shifting his knees, Hobbie started to pull out, but found himself locked into Tycho’s warm body. A shudder ran through him, along with a sense of panic. He was trapped. His hips rocked despite himself, instinctively driving the come leaking out in a steady stream deeper into Tycho even as fear began to fill him.

Beneath him, Tycho stretched his legs out and reached up and back, tugging Hobbie down on top of him. Tycho aligned their arms and took hold of his hands, squeezing them gently. Hobbie shuddered slightly before burying his face in Tycho’s neck. Slowly, the tremors slowed. Tycho was okay. He was telling Hobbie it would be okay, that he would be okay. His packmates would see to it.

Hobbie focused on the sounds and smells all around him, the feeling of Tycho’s warm body and the taste of his skin under his mouth. Wes and Wedge were coupling nearby, causing the bed to bounce and shake. The sound of Wes’s enthusiastic response was a familiar, comforting sound. He was so very familiar with that sound. Wes wouldn’t be having sex if things weren’t okay. He was thoughtful that way.

It was a relief when the knot finally deflated and the (literal and emotional) pressure eased off. No longer trapped inside the other pilot, Hobbie peeked out from Tycho’s neck, unwilling to move just yet and lose the comfort of the other man’s presence. Beside them, now sated, Wedge straightened out of a slouch and pulled free from Wes’s body. The omega, spotting his tentative peeking, grinned and crawled over, leaning against Hobbie’s side and draping an arm over his back.

Wedge suddenly reappeared on the other side of the bed and rubbed a comforting hand across his shoulder blades. With that firm touch and the safety of his pack surrounding him, Hobbie felt the stress of knotting finally passing away. He nudged Wes’s side and flopped down onto the bed once the omega had moved out of the way.

As soon as he was settled, Wes scrambled over Hobbie and squished himself between him and Tycho. With his free hand, Wes seized Tycho’s chin, glaring at him as they made eye contact. “You can’t disappear again. Not like that. We’ve already lost too many.”

Peering over Wes’s broad shoulder, Hobbie nodded in agreement. He didn’t want to ever go through anything like the past several years ever again. They’d lost so much of their pack to the Empire. They couldn’t let Tycho throw himself in harm’s way like that again. Without his pack there to support and protect him, Tycho had been put through a living hell that would scar him for the rest of his life.

Something in Tycho’s eyes wobbled, glistening with a hint of unshed tears at the forcefulness of Wes’s declaration. Grasping Wes’s hand in his own, Tycho rolled onto his side, allowing Wes to curl up against him. Hobbie, meanwhile, pressed up next to Wes, getting as close to Tycho as he could without dislodging Wes.

“I won’t let it happen again,” Tycho promised. “I won’t let anything break us apart like that ever again.”

Wedge, looking relaxed from his place behind Tycho, reached around and placed his hand on top of theirs. “There won’t be any more disappearances,” he promised. His voice was calm and steady, his words an oath that would not be broken.

Sighing with relief, Wes’s body relaxed, going loose limbed and pliable.

“Nap time?” Tycho asked teasingly.

“Mm.”

Hobbie wrapped himself protectively around Wes and gave Tycho a stern look. He suspected the other man had the new Rogues convinced he was a gentile patrician, but Hobbie knew better. He’d known Tycho longer than anyone else in the galaxy (he didn’t count his absent blood kin) and that old temper and impulsiveness was still there, buried beneath the layers of hurt and loneliness. He’d need watching to make sure he didn’t go get himself in to trouble again.

Wrapping an arm around Wes’s middle, Hobbie let his eyes drift shut, taking in the omega’s addicting scent. They all needed rest and time to reconnect. He couldn’t think of a better way to do just that.

When Wes’s heat ended, they’d be fully united once more.


	4. Wes

It was a struggle not to break out in giggles. Wes clutched at Tycho’s hand, impatiently leading him deeper into Coruscant. Tycho was here, he was okay, he was back, back with their pack! It had been nearly three years since he and Hobbie had seen him and it had taken everything he had not to cry all over him after they’d landed their X-Wings and finally saw each other.

A small shiver ran up Wes’s spine as another wave of need swept over him. Pinpricks nipped at his skin. His heat was starting to build up in earnest now. It was a marvel Tycho hadn’t noticed. He really had been gone far too long if he couldn’t recognize heat scent.

Wes focused on his goal: get Tycho to the apartment. With heat pooling in his gut and a brain that kept pointing out every convenient surface and out of the way spot suitable for sex, it wasn’t easy to keep striding forward. He wanted Tycho, to be reassured at the most primal level possible he was okay. He kept telling himself they’d have more fun on a proper bed instead of bent over the waste receptacle in the alleyway. Or on his back on a bench. Or simply pinned against a duracrete wall with hot, bare flesh pressed against his and hands-

Focus. He really needed to focus.

Tycho was so out of it, that he barely noticed when Wes guided him into a building and to the door of his and Hobbie’s apartment. Rebounding off him when he stopped to open the door, Tycho jerked and grabbed at the bag sliding off his shoulder, eyes startled as his attention snapped back to the present.

“So when Command brought me and Hobbie to Coruscant to head up the temporary Rogue Squadron, we decided we’d had enough of base living,” Wes explained as he punched in the door access code. “A good chunk of this building section cater to military personnel, so they provide furnished housing units, and we don’t have to sign in and out with security every time we want to hit a tapcaf.”

It also had better insulated walls and massive beds more than suitable for a small pack. The unit was almost more than they could afford, but they’d taken it in hopes of a reunion just like that one that was about to unfold.

“That sounds efficient,” Tycho said as the door slid open. His eyes were brighter now, more alert. He may not have been consciously aware of Wes’s heat but his body had finally noticed.

Wes tugged him inside, pausing just long enough to secure the door before he flung himself at Tycho, arms dragging his head down for a kiss while he plastered his body against the taller man’s.

Groaning, Tycho eagerly returned the embrace, hips rocking lightly as his cock started to harden.

“You flew while in heat?” Tycho demanded once they’d parted.

Smirking, Wes took in Tycho’s blown pupils and the press of the hardon against his leg. He wanted that mouth on him. Or maybe his hands and probing fingers. “Just for the ceremony,” Wes replied. “Dab on enough suppressant and cologne and no one even notices this early on.”

Tycho was smiling now. “Meaning…”

“I wanted you first,” Wes replied. He needed Tycho between his legs, warm and breathing. “You’ve been gone way too long.” Too much talking. Rolling up onto his toes, Wes kissed him again.

This time, Tycho’s hands clutched at his hips, groaning as he pulled their bodies together so they could rut against each other. The friction as they rocked against each other was glorious. Wes wasn’t going to wait any longer.

Pulling back, Wes seized Tycho around the waist and hefted him over his shoulder. It was easier than it should have been; Tycho had lost weight.

Instead of being offended, Tycho laughed. “What, no time for romance?” He asked.

“Not after three kriffing years,” Wes replied.

Once they were in the bedroom and Wes had dumped his pack mate on the oversized bed, they both stripped down. Tycho was thinner, Wes realized as he studied the other man, and more worn, but he still looked strong. More importantly, the cock he was palming was hard and already starting to leak.

Scrambling onto the bed, Wes climbed on top Tycho, straddling his body and keeping him pinned to the bed. After all these years, they were going to do this right, damn it.

“We’ve been worrying about you for too kriffing long,” Wes said after another kiss. Staring into Tycho’s eyes, Wes reached behind him, found Tycho’s wet cock, and lined it up with the aching opening between his legs. Then, without hesitation, he lowered himself onto it, gasping as he forced himself to take it all the way to the hilt.

Oh, that was good. Between preparations for the Rogues’ return from Thyferra and the hormonal shift that preceded a heat, Wes hadn’t had anyone inside him for far too long. Tycho length was perfect. It drove mercilessly inside him, forcing him open with an intoxicating mix of pleasure and stinging pain.

Tycho’s cock filled him all the way, past where his own idle probing fingers could reach and all the way to the end of his slick passage. There were some days he couldn’t manage to take Tycho’s full length, but heat made so many things possible. It was glorious.

When Wes came to rest on Tycho’s lap, the hard cock inside him was pressed right up against the end of his passage, applying glorious pressure. He felt like he was split open on a spit roast, just waiting to be consumed. After a few moments, he recognized the sounds coming out of his throat: moans, whimpers, and desperate panting. Hands spasmed on his hips and neatly trimmed fingernails bit into his skin. The sharp pricks were enough to ground Wes and he was finally able to look down and grin at Tycho. The man responded by raising his knees and planting his feet flat on the bed.

This was going to be fun.

Raising himself up slightly, Wes dropped back down onto Tycho’s cock. The glide of that shaft inside him was wonderful and the way the cock head hit his cervix glorious. Moaning, Wes repeated the motion, raising up a bit higher than before.

Tycho let him bounce a few times before he dug his feet into the bed and thrust upwards, making sure he also yanked Wes down on his cock at the same time.

Startled, a shocked cry ripped its way out of Wes’s lips. His head fell back, exposing his neck. He felt so good. So good riding Tycho’s cock. Everything else drifted away and Wes was quickly getting lost in the haze of heat. He leaned back as best he could, wanting Tycho to have the perfect view of his cock sliding in and out of his body. The hammering thrusts continued, and then Tycho ran his fingers down Wes’s engorged clit. A desperate keening slipped out, turning into a wail as Tycho ceased teasing and instead gripped the shaft with a firm hand.

The pressure set off fireworks behind Wes’s eyelids and he ground down on Tycho’s cock, shrieking in pleasure. As he came, Tycho thrust as best he could, spilling his own release inside Wes and drawing everything out as long as he could.

Even the best orgasm had to end, unfortunately. As the world steadied once more, Wes sighed happily, then grinned down at Tycho lying dazed below him. Stretching for a moment, Wes let himself fall forward, catching himself on his hands and dropping down to nuzzle at Tycho’s long neck. He could still feel the cock inside him. It may have been growing softer and somewhat smaller, but it was still a pleasant sensation.

Good. This was good, good, good. Letting out a happy blurble against Tycho’s throat, Wes wrapped himself around Tycho and threaded their fingers together. Tycho was here and inside him and they’d do it all over again soon. Very soon.

The bed wobbled suddenly and a familiar scent wafted its way to Wes’s nose. Raising his head, Wes smiled happily at Wedge, tilting towards him as best he could without letting go of Tycho.

“After all these years, you’re still a brat. Flying and attending the ceremony when your heat was starting was risky. You know how distracted you can get.”

Wedge sounded exasperated. That was normal. “I had it figured out,” Wes mumbled, angling his head so Wedge’s fingers could scratch his scalp. He’d had a plan. Detailed plan. He’d gotten supplies, made sure Hobbie was distracted. He’d wanted Tycho first and he’d gotten just that.

Shaking his head, Wedge relaxed as he leaned against Tycho’s shoulder. “Mm hm. You still should have told one of us sooner,” he insisted. “For all you knew, Tycho and I could have been asked to come debrief at Starfighter HQ after the party. Or we may have taken up another offer for housing tonight. Then it would have been just you and Hobbie again. And that isn’t nearly as fun, is it?”

Wes was saved from having to come up with a some kind of retort by the bed shifting again, heralding Hobbie’s arrival. A familiar knobby knee brushed his leg and fresh excitement sparked when Wes realized where Hobbie was. He quickly shifted position so he could both spread his legs more and still reach Wedge. Below him, Tycho did something similar.

A wet tongue swept down Wes’s body, triggering a started cry out of him. Tycho let out an identical sound a heartbeat later. Oh, he loved Hobbie’s mouth. Loved how much he loved pleasuring them with it. As Hobbie ran his tongue along their joined bodies, Wes moaned as Tycho’s cock began to harden again, swelling inside his passage. Then, as Tycho’s hips began to rock and Hobbie’s tongue kept sweeping up and down and up and down, the sizzling pleasure in his gut exploded.

Heat raced from his core to the tips of his fingers and toes. Jerking upright, Wes slammed himself down on Tycho’s cock, shrieking as as the sudden burning need inside him was briefly sated. Hurriedly, Wes drove himself hard onto Tycho’s cock again. His vision narrowed and all he could think about was filling himself with as much cock as he could as fast as he could.

Hobbie suddenly appeared behind him, wrapping an arm around his waist to jerk his shaft with a strong, tight gip. A hard cock began to grind again his backside, rocking with his every movement and leaving behind a trail of wet precome while hungry kisses and bites peppered his jaw.

With two packmates pleasuring him, the burning heat exploded like a proton torpedo striking its target. Wes’s breath caught in his throat, his entire body locking up as he squeezed down on Tycho’s cock. Hobbie pressed close behind him, holding him upright as his vision began to dance and the room spun.

When the mindless pleasure finally began to ease off, Wes could suddenly breath again. He gasped and sagged backwards, trusting Hobbie to hold him upright. Hobbie was safe. Familiar. Loving. There was no hurry to clear away the fog in his mind or to shake the lethargy from his limbs. He felt so wobbly and his skin tingled, tiny pin pricks running up and down his body.

When everything stopped swimming, Wes bumped his head against Hobbie’s chin, signalling for the other pilot to let go. Mindful not to jab any of the others with a foot or knee, Wes awkwardly pulled off Tycho’s still hard cock before collapsing down onto the bed. He wanted cuddles and a soft bed under him while his packmates chased away the pin pricks with gentle hands.

Wedge shifted position, moving unseen behind Wes, and then he had hands on Wes’s shoulders, tugging him backwards to rest against his chest. Wedge’s body was lean and compact, but just as strong as ever. Wes took a moment to inhale, taking in Wedge’s familiar scent and the underlying hint of lust.

Wes felt his pulse quicken and the pin pricks ran up and down his spine, quickly turning into sparks. Wedge wanted him. Needed him.

He’d have to do something about that. But first…

Spotting Hobbie’s somewhat concerned expression, Wes winked at him. The other pilot relaxed then flickered his eyes down towards Tycho. The flash of pleasure ran through Wes that had nothing to do with heat. He was so glad Hobbie wanted to take care of Tycho. He needed pampering. A smirk appeared on his face as Wes considered the different ways Hobbie could bring Tycho to completion and a quick wiggle of his eyebrow was all that was needed to extend his permission.

“No more disappearing,” Hobbie ordered Tycho with a solemn expression. Then, dropping down, he swallowed Tycho’s waiting cock.

Wes squeezed Wedge’s hand as Hobbie went to work. The ecstasy on Tycho’s face was gorgeous and the sight of his unbound pleasure was making Wedge rut against his ass and groan in his ear.

Unwilling to take his eyes off Hobbie and Tycho, Wes pushed up onto his knees, spreading his legs and wiggling his backside at Wedge.

While Tycho eagerly rocked onto Hobbie’s fingers and into his throat, Wes whimpered in anticipation while Wedge ran his hands over his hips and down his body, taking a moment to squeeze and play with his buttcheeks. Then, in a single quick motion, Wedge drove deep inside.

Two rounds with Tycho had loosened Wes up, but Wedge’s cock always seemed to be the perfect size. With a squeeze of his hips as the only warning, Wedge ground hard against the end of Wes’s passage, the dual pain and pleasure making him squeal in surprise. Then, drawing back, Wedge thrust in again, driving just as deep as before, his cock rubbing perfectly against Wes’s inner walls.

Wes practically felt like he was drowning. Everything was just too good. Wedge plowed him steadily and mercilessly from behind, claiming him in a position no one else could while Hobbie continued pleasuring Tycho in front of him. The closer Tycho drew to orgasm, the more Wes felt himself clenching down on Wedge in anticipation.

Instead of letting Tycho come down his throat, Hobbie suddenly jerked back and flipped the other pilot onto his stomach. Tycho pushed his hips up while Hobbie clutched at him, holding himself open for Hobbie’s cock.

Wes’s stomach flipped at the impassioned shriek Tycho let loose when Hobbie drove into him. It only took a few rough thrusts before they were both coming. When Hobbie’s knot tied off inside Tycho, Wes couldn’t suppress a hiss of, “Yesss,” at the pornographic display before him. He rocked back onto Wedge’s suddenly stuttering hips, chasing his own orgasm.

Wedge began to fuck him in earnest once Wes’s passage stopped spasming around him. Wes moaned helplessly as his gut sizzled again, finally starting to feel tired at the seemingly endless stream of sex as Wedge finally reached his peak.

They both needed a moment to recover after their fantic coupling. When Wedge finally pulled free, Wes suppressed a hiss. His lust had ebbed some, rendering him more sensetive to the ache caused by the multiple rounds of sex.

Pushing aside the budding soreness, Wes slid across the bed to join the others. Cuddling up close to the entwined pair, Wes ran his hand through Hobbie’s hair. He knew how much knotting shook him up. Wedge appeared on the other side of the bed a few moments later and passed his own comforting hand across Hobbie’s back.

The gamma shuddered again, then sighed, hiding his face in Tycho’s neck. Almost reluctantly, he raised his head and slowly climbed off Tycho and flopped down onto the bed.

Hobbie might get embarrassed, Wes knew. He often did. And he couldn’t risk Tycho falling asleep before they had a short chat. Wes climbed over Hobbie’s body, careful not to squish any sensitive bits, then seized Tycho’s chin, forcing them to make eye contact. “You can’t disappear again. Not like that. We’ve already lost too many,” Wes said firmly.

Tycho covered Wes’s hand with his own and rolled onto his side, giving Wes the opportunity to press as close as he could. “I won’t let it happen again,” Tycho promised. His eyes glistened with emotion. “I won’t let anything break us apart like that ever again.”

From behind Tycho, Wedge reached out and added his hand to theirs. “There won’t be ang more disappearances.”

Sighing in relief. Wes finally relaxed and let his eyes fall closed. Behind him, Hobbie let out an almost inaudible sigh.

“Nap time?” Tycho asked. His voice suddenly seemed far away.

“Mm,” Wes managed to reply. He was so tired. A flicker of heat still simmered inside him, but having Hobbie behind him and Tycho in front of him had finally forced the pinpricks away.

As he continued to hover between sleep and wakefulness, he heard Wedge’s voice and felt tge rumble in Tycho’s chest as he responded.

Wes was glad to have this time together. Wedge would be comforted by knowing what exactly they were all up to. Tycho was always somewhat desperate to be useful and he needed extra love and care to continue healing the lingering wounds caused by Lusankya. Meanwhile, Hobbie would be relieved to let Wedge take over the squadron. He was perfectly capable of leading but it had never been a goal of his to be in permanent command.

As for himself? He was just happy they were all together again. It was how it should be. They were a pack and a family. They belonged together. He never wanted to lose them ever again.


End file.
